The city of Jaipur lay under a restless sky.
Thunder rolled across the horizon like an approaching beast, and rain lashed the streets in silver threads, weaving through the maze of narrow lanes and trembling lamp posts. The smell of wet earth mixed with smoke from street vendors, rising up to meet the storm.
In her small third-floor apartment, Siya Sharma sat cross-legged on her couch, a blanket draped over her shoulders. The lights flickered occasionally, casting long, dancing shadows across the walls. A half-finished cup of masala tea sat beside her, growing cold.
Normally, monsoons were her favorite time of year. She would sit by the window, sketching or listening to old songs. But tonight, the rain sounded different — heavier, more urgent, as if it carried messages meant only for her.
Her phone lay silent beside her notebook.
No call. No text. No update from Lucy.
Two days of silence.
It wasn't like her. Lucy was impulsive, emotional — not the type to disappear without warning.
Siya frowned, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The last time they'd spoken was at the school earlier that week.
She remembered the scene vividly — Lucy leaning against the staffroom door, pale and distracted, pretending to scroll through her phone while her hands trembled slightly. The laughter she forced that day had been hollow. Even her eyes — usually sharp, mischievous, alive — had gone flat, like the light had been drained out of them.
> "Lucy… what's going on?" Siya had asked, placing a gentle hand over hers.
Lucy had startled, then forced a smile.
> "I'm fine. Just stressed about school projects."
But Siya had seen the truth — the tension in her jaw, the dark circles under her eyes, the way she kept glancing toward the windows as if expecting something — or someone — to appear.
Now, alone in the dim apartment, Siya couldn't shake the unease clawing at her chest.
She pushed herself off the couch and walked to the window. Outside, the world shimmered in shades of gray and gold as lightning tore across the sky. Far below, the streets glistened with puddles that reflected the city lights like fractured glass.
She pressed her palm against the cool glass, her reflection staring back — eyes wide, uncertain, but burning with the same curiosity that had always gotten her into trouble.
> "Something's wrong," she murmured. "I can feel it."
She turned back to her desk, trying to distract herself with her research notes for school, but the thought of Lucy gnawed at her.
And then — her phone buzzed.
The sharp vibration made her jump.
She snatched it up, expecting maybe a casual text, a silly meme, anything to prove she was overthinking. But what she saw made her blood run cold.
> "He's moving. Be ready."
Her breath hitched. The message was from Lucy.
No emojis. No punctuation. Just those four words.
> "He's moving?" Siya whispered. "Who… Nick?"
Her pulse pounded in her ears.
She had heard the stories — everyone in Jaipur had.
Nick Verma.
The name carried weight, even years after his arrest. He was more than a gangster — he was a strategist, a man who could manipulate entire networks without lifting a weapon. People said his mind was a labyrinth, and anyone who entered never found their way out.
Sid Verma's older brother.
The same man whose actions had destroyed Lucy's life.
And now he was out.
Free.
Siya's throat tightened as she recalled the news she'd overheard at a café two days ago — whispers about a "prison transfer gone wrong," an "escaped convict last seen near the city border." She had brushed it off as gossip. Now it didn't feel like coincidence.
> "Oh God, Lucy…" she muttered, pacing the room. "What have you gotten yourself into?"
She opened her drawer and pulled out a notebook — her old detective diary from college, where she'd once written down unsolved mysteries for fun. The title she scrawled across the new page wasn't playful this time.
LUCY – CHANGES & SECRETS
She began writing feverishly:
Missed calls from unknown numbers.
Frequent absences from school.
Talking in coded phrases.
Sudden trips at night.
The bruise on her wrist — blue, circular.
Each line made her more certain: Lucy was involved in something dangerous.
She paused, staring at the page, then underlined one name twice.
Nick Verma.
Outside, the rain grew harsher. A gust of wind slammed against the balcony door, making her jump. Somewhere below, a dog barked, then went silent.
The power flickered again.
The room dimmed, bathed only in the occasional flash of lightning.
Siya moved toward the window once more — and froze.
Down the street, half-shrouded by the rain, a dark figure stood motionless beneath a flickering streetlight.
Tall. Still. Watching.
A jolt of fear shot through her, freezing her breath. For a split second, she thought their eyes met.
The lights blinked.
The figure was gone.
Siya stumbled back, heart hammering. She grabbed her phone, ready to call Lucy — but her hands shook so badly she nearly dropped it.
No answer. Just the cold hum of the dial tone.
She sank to the floor, clutching the phone to her chest.
The realization sank in like ice: Lucy wasn't just hiding something — she was being hunted.
> "I have to protect her," Siya whispered to the dark. "Before it's too late."
Outside, thunder cracked again — louder, closer — as if the city itself was warning her.
The whispers in the dark had begun, and Jaipur was holding its breath for what came next.
---